At last a flute-like voice again arose. 'Listen, Nise! do you know what?'
'No, Nanet, I don't know.'
'Well, I'm going to get on the wall, and I'll pull you up by the shoulders and get you over here.'
'Oh! that's it, Nanet, that's it! Climb up!'
In a trice Nanet, clinging to the stone wall with hands and feet, as agile as a cat, found himself on the top of the wall. And as he sat there, bestriding it, he looked quite comical, with his big round head, his large blue eyes, and his tumbled fair hair. He was already fourteen, but he remained little, though very strong and resolute.
'Lucien, Antoinette!' he cried, 'just you keep watch.'
Then bending over Delaveau's garden, quite proud of overlooking everything on both sides of the wall, he added: 'Come on, Nise, let me catch hold of you.'
'Oh, no! not me first, Nanet! I'll keep watch over here.'
'Then who's coming, Nise?'
'Wait a minute, Nanet, be careful. Paul's climbing up. There's a trellis. He'll try it to see if it breaks.'